


red

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [39]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:35:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6612598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie is always so vocal about his love of Claire's hair- but we know Claire is very fond of Jamie's beautiful red hair too, its just in her thoughts and descriptions more often than her words- Imagine Claire being affectionate with Jamie over his hair one night in bed and confessing her own love of his lovely red locks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	red

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/142901194696/jamie-is-always-so-vocal-about-his-love-of) on tumblr

It was late – long past dark, the soft, dim light glowing from the side table the only source of illumination in the quiet bedroom.

In bed, Claire reclined on one elbow – her other hand gently running through the thick red curls tucked safely against her chest.

It really *was* the most beautiful mop of red she’d ever seen. Not just red – dozens of shades and tints and thicknesses, glinting brightly in the almost-dark. She loved the hair not only due to the person who dreamed beside her – but due to what it represented.

Individuality. Honor. Family. Clan.

And Scotland – the country where (she vaguely remembered Uncle Lamb telling her, one lazy afternoon in another lifetime) the most redheads, on average, were found in the entire world.

Her fingers stilled, grasping a particularly curly lock, relishing its gloss and strength. The richness of it. The rogue beauty, flaming like a beacon in the dark. How it so fit the man she loved more than her own life.

How it so fit the small girl sleeping beside her, smiling as her mother stroked her hair, just like her father had. A smile that she’d never be able to see herself – twin legacies bestowed by a man who loved her more, in the womb, than any other father had ever loved a child.

Brianna’s red head shone anew with Claire’s tears. She watched the other side of the bed, wishing beyond all reason for Jamie to walk in the door, slowly remove his vest and cravat, slip out of his boots, and slide beneath the sheets, taking her hand and sheltering their precious daughter.

But when the door opened – and the electric light from the hallway poured into the room, casting Frank’s profile in shadow as he removed his fedora – Claire hastily wiped her eyes, sat up straighter, and waited for her husband’s cold lips to touch her cheek.


End file.
